


Breadsticks are not for Eating

by kams_log



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Castiel is a Little Shit, Crack, Dating, Dean is So Done, Fluff, M/M, Sam is a Little Shit, breadsticks, but hey they got breadsticks out of it, so there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/kams_log
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt: "I dare you to make the breadsticks meme into a destiel fic." Challenge accepted.</p><p>Dean should have immediately thought something was up when Castiel took one bite and stared at Dean so wide his eyes might have popped out of his skull. In fact, in retrospect, he should have been skeptical the moment Castiel left the bunker with that damn bag slung over his shoulder. The bag that sat innocently by Cas’s lap for the entire dinner.</p><p>But instead, Dean had laughed and teased, “Like breadsticks, Cas?” </p><p>Cas nodded slowly and grabbed another one almost instantly. Dean didn’t pay much attention and grabbed one himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breadsticks are not for Eating

**Author's Note:**

> this was a glorious mistake. hope you enjoy it ;)

“I heard the Olive Garden is a very nice restaurant for couples, Dean.”

That was the sentence that got them into this mess. That was the sentence right before everything went downhill. At least, that’s how Dean looked at it.

Technically, everything was just fine until they got there. Dean held Cas’s hand over the shift, smiling whenever Cas’s thumb brushed over his knuckles or if he pulled it up to kiss his fingers like they were some old romantic pair from the movies. Dean blushed like a stupid idiot, and he had to admit, going out to dinner wasn’t the worst idea ever. It wasn’t like they had much time between hunts and researching at two in the morning in the bunker.

They didn’t need the date, per say. But it was pretty nice, and Dean found his spirits looking up.

They got inside the restaurant and Dean’s mouth instantly watered at the lingering smell of pasta and bread that filled the air. He almost did a three sixty as they passed the kitchen, the smell of basil and tomato overpowering his senses like a kind of scented balm.

Damn, they should have gotten out sooner. Just the two of them.

They sat across from each other in a lover’s booth and looked over their menus, occasionally trading shy and bashful glances over the words. Italian music drifted over their heads and Dean felt he could drown in the warm atmosphere.

They were talking about how nice the restaurant was when the breadsticks showed up. Dean should have immediately thought something was up when Castiel took one bite and stared at Dean so wide his eyes might have popped out of his skull. In fact, in retrospect, he should have been skeptical the moment Castiel left the bunker with that damn bag slung over his shoulder. The bag that sat innocently by Cas’s lap for the entire dinner.

But instead, Dean had laughed and teased, “Like breadsticks, Cas?”

Cas nodded slowly and grabbed another one almost instantly. Dean didn’t pay much attention and grabbed one himself.

They chatted for another thirty minutes or so, some about the shtriga they were hunting, a little about Claire, and a lot about themselves and Sam and how life seemed a little bit… normal, as of late.

Of course it couldn’t last.

Dinner went without a hitch. Castiel slurped up noodles and Dean laughed and hung one over his lip, grinning like an idiot when Cas burst into laughter of his own. Dean payed the bill once they were done, and they almost made it out the front door before their server and a woman at the front desk asked them to wait a moment.

Then, they asked to look in Cas’s bag.

Cas looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Dean was gritchy and ready to get back on the road already. They had an hour and a half drive back to the bunker, after all.

And then Cas opened the bag, and Dean’s eyes nearly burned out of his skull.

Breadsticks. There had to be a _dozen_ breadsticks in Cas’s bag.

Dean stared. Their server stared. The manager stared.

“Aw, _shit_.” Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and ran for it. The employees inside called for them to stop, but there was no way in hell Dean was sticking around to find out about breadstick laws or whatever the hell was punishment for taking all those breadsticks. Cas was hot on his heels until they were in the Impala and peeling out of the parking lot, Dean laughing hysterically the entire way.

“What the hell Cas?” Dean exclaimed once they hit the interstate.

Castiel blushed and stared at the breadsticks in his bag.

“Sam said he wanted some. Something about a joke online, I believe.”

“Son of a bitch.”

When they got home, Castiel waved the breadstick bag triumphantly and Sam whooped. Dean shook his head and grabbed five breadsticks to go.

**Author's Note:**

> me: lovefromdean.tumblr.com
> 
> hope you liked it!


End file.
